


I'll just sit here

by GabrielLives



Series: Gabriel Monthly Challenges 2018 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Artist!Gabriel, F/M, High School, The Winchester Gospels, Writer Chuck Shurley, carver edlund - Freeform, chuck shurley is gabriels dad, human!Gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 20:03:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14504460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabrielLives/pseuds/GabrielLives
Summary: While you are trying to enjoy a little quiet reading time during lunch period, a boy you don't know sat down at the empty table with you.





	I'll just sit here

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the the April Gabriel Monthly Challenge!  
> The prompts I used were  
> "I have seen it, and I can't unsee it."  
> High school AU  
> and a picture board that can be described as "tricksters greatest hits"

Lunch. Arguably the best period of high school. It was a break in the pressure, and a chance to get away from the crowded and loud classrooms. 

 

Not that the cafeteria was quiet by any means. But you always had a book or two in your backpack. And when you sat at the empty table way back in the corner, nose buried in the latest volume of an ongoing series you were reading, well, the echoing sounds of kids yelling over each other kind of faded away. 

 

You were picking at your lunch and finishing a chapter when someone sat at the other end of the picnic style table. You glanced up, wanting to see who sat across the table. All of your friends had a different lunch period, and no one ever sat at the same table as you.

 

“Hey,” he said, smiling as you made eye contact. 

 

_ Hmm, he’s cute.  _  You quickly caught yourself from going all wide eyed at the boy who sat at the far end of the table. He looked like he ran with the popular crowd, well put together with just enough of a wild side to hide it from adults. You were nowhere near popular, and your all black wardrobe and enthusiasm for the macabre ensured that you’d never be apart of that crowd.

 

No, he must be here as a joke or a dare.

 

“Hey,” was all you said back. Your apathetic stare walked the line of being a glare before your attention fell back to your book. It was best to do what you always did when people around you were being cruel, just ignore it. 

 

You went back to your book, but the other boy didn't leave. But he didn't talk to you anymore, so that was a plus. Neither of you spoke while you both ate, you nibbling on a pile of mushy french fries and him absolutely inhaling his sandwich and downing a can of Pepsi in what seemed like no time at all. 

 

“Hey,” he called to you again.

 

You surpressed a groan as you looked up.

 

“You like that book?” He nodded at the paperback in your hand. The question genuinely surprised you, along with the fact that he seemed honestly wanted to know. 

 

“Um,” you dumbly looked back down to the open page, “yeah, its good.” You marked the page with your bookmark (thick cardstock you cut to look like a ravens feather) and looked back up to him. The kids chin was resting in his hands, like he was hanging on your every word. “It's got ghosts and urban legends and creepy stuff. I’m only a few books into this, but it’s good so far. I like weird stuff, I guess. And you can't go wrong with a book called Supernatural, right?”

 

He pulled a face that looked like he was impressed, then happily announced “My dad wrote it.”

 

You stared at him for a moment, taking in what he said. 

 

“Your dad,” you started slowly, “is Carver Edlund?” You stared at the worn cover, then back up, almost gasping in surprise to find that this kid had silently slid down the bench, now directly across from you.

 

“Well, it’s just a pen name, but yeah,” he shrugged. 

 

“Come on, you don't expect me to believe this, right?” Absentmindedly, you flipped the book over, looking for a picture of the author, but there was only reviews and a summary. Now you were sure someone was messing with you. 

 

“No, but I can prove it,” he said confidently as he reached for his backpack. He rooted around for a moment, letting out a pleased “aha!” when he found what he was looking for.

 

He looked up at you, his hand still buried in his bag. “This,” he said dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows as he pulled out a black leather book, the white pentagram catching your eyes, “is my work sketchbook.” He wiped some crumbs off the table before setting the book down. 

 

“Work?” you questioned.

 

“Yeah, I drew the cover.” He pointed to your book.

 

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You did?”

 

“I do all the art for my dads books. Concept to finished piece. All me.” He was smiling widely now. “It’s, like, half of the reason he started writing. When I was a kid, he’d write something and I’d make a little drawing to go with it. I’d go show my mom, she said it was cute, but then as I got older, I got better. I guess my dad did, too. So she snuck some copies and sent them off to wherever, and someone important liked them. So now, I have a job. And something I can do after we graduate.”

 

His story sounded real, and if it was, you were impressed.

 

“Must be nice to have a talent,” you said.

 

“Sometimes,” he answered with a small smile. “Check the info page.” He gestured back to the book still in your hands. You opened up to the first page, looking for the artist info.

 

“Uh,” you ran your fingers over the page as you looked. “Ah, cover art by Gabriel Shurely.”

 

“Thats me, I’m Gabriel.” He sat back in the seat a little, and lifted his shirt, showing the underside of the hem and the name written in sharpie there. “See? Gabriel.”

 

You stifled a laugh behind your hand. “That says Lucifer!” 

 

“Ah shit!” Gabriel quickly pulled his shirt back down, flustered and embarrassed. His cheeks were red, but he managed a smile as he watched you laugh. “Laundry day. Anyway…,”

 

“Sorry,” you laughed as your giggles died down, “I’m good.”

 

“Are you?” he asked, no heat in the question, just a beaming smile and a friendly look.

 

You caught a laugh in your throat, controlling your breathing until you really were good.

 

“Yes, yes I’m fine.” You smiled back just as bright.

 

“So, look.” He turned his sketchbook towards you, and opened a few pages in. And there was a rough sketch of the book you were reading cover art. You marveled at it. Even as a sketch, it was fantastic. “Check the publishing date. The one in my book is earlier.” 

 

“Wow!” you exclaimed as your eyes jumped around the drawing. “This is great! But these boys in the sketch don't look anything like these do.” You held up the book, referring to the Fabio-esqueness that the subjects of Gabriel's sketch definitely did not have. 

 

“I know. I made this,” he pointed to his sketch, “based on two kids in our school, Sam Wesson and Dean Smith. You know ‘em?”

 

You shook your head no.

 

“Super weird, those two. Might as well be from an alternate universe. Well, my dad found out and made me change it. Something about lawyers and “I don't want to be sued, Gabriel” and this is what the publisher wanted.” Gabriel stuck his tongue out, mild disgust on his face. 

 

“Well this is still so good, Gabriel” You pulled his book a little closer to get a better look. It was obvious that this sketchbook was well used, and your fingers ran along the edge of the paper, itching to turn the pages. “Can I…?” you asked.

 

“Sure, go ahead.” He smiled again, and the warmth of it made your cheeks burn. You bit your bottom lip as Gabriel dug back into his backpack, pulling out another Pepsi, cracking it open and taking a long chug as you flipped through the book. 

 

There were character designs and colored mock ups of covers and pages and pages of the same car, the main characters’ ‘67 Chevy Impala, all from different angles. As you got further back, you noticed a green post it note sticking out at an odd angle.

 

“Trickster,” you read aloud. “What’s that,” you asked as you looked back up at Gabriel.

 

“Aww man, that’s me!” Gabriel exclaimed proudly. When all you gave him back was a confused look, he kept talking. “This guy, the Trickster, my dad is basing him off me! How cool is that!”

 

“Is he a bad guy?” 

 

“He starts off that way, and in a way later book, he traps Sam and Dean in this weird TV land, just throwing them into to different shows and stuff, and it all sounds so cool! I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I don't care!” Gabriel was practically leaping off his seat, almost yelling as his hands were gesturing wildly. “I got to draw this guy in all kinds of cool situations.”

 

You opened to the Tricksters section, and coughed out another laugh. “Oh my god, he looks just like you, only older!”

 

“Hey, old me is a good looking guy.”

 

“Yeah, he’s cute.” As you looked at drawings of the Trickster, dressed as a police officer getting a stake through the back, a doctor wiggling his fingers and generally being sassy, a janitor eating a candy bar, looking dangerously handsome with a knife to his neck, you didn't notice Gabriel calm down, lean in a little closer across the table and give you a look that was almost adoration.

 

The next few pages were treats, ice cream sundaes and cakes, aliens and animals, him wearing different jackets. You think the olive green one is nice. 

 

You turn the next page and your eyes go wide. “Oh!” 

 

Before Gabriel snatched the sketchbook from across the table with a yelp and slammed it shut, you managed a good look at a scene of the Trickster standing by a table of desserts, a beautiful model type girl on each arm. 

 

“Sorry,” Gabriel mumbled as he shoved the book back into his backpack. “You weren't supposed to see that.”

 

**“I have seen it, and I can never unsee it,”** you said, laughing again. Gabriel still looked like he wished the floor would open up and swallow him, so you reached over the table and laid a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, Gabriel. All of your drawings are beautiful. I just wasn't expecting that.”

 

“Yeah, sorry,” Gabriel apologized again. “That’s just his personality. He certainly has a flair.”

 

“It’s cool.” There was a bit of silence, and Gabriel still wasn't relaxed. “So,” you began, “since this Trickster is based on you,” Gabriel's eyes rose quickly to meet yours, “is that the kind of girl you go for, too?”

 

Gabriel let out a tiny gasp, and slowly, his radiant smile returned. “No,” he said slowly, “not at all.” He rose from his seat, and made his way around the end of the table and sat down next to you. Your pulse quickened a little, and you could feel you muscles tense up. “So, um, could I eat lunch with you tomorrow?” 

 

Your cheeks must have been fire engine red by now, he was sitting so close to you. “Y-yeah, I’d like that.” 

 

Both of you smiled, a shy smile that looked so good on Gabriel. “Here,” he said, digging in his backpack again. His hand came out holding another can of Pepsi, and he set it in front of you. “A gift from the Trickster.”

 

You laughed again as you reached for the surprisingly cold can. “How many of these do you have in there?”


End file.
